


It's A Brand New World

by Leiazher (Earlephant)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Apocawasn't, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, it ends really sappy, it's Aziraphale's turn to wait, learning to love and live, the cottage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 05:35:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20402512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Earlephant/pseuds/Leiazher
Summary: Learning to live again after the apocawasn't is a bit difficult, and it takes time to find each other again in this new world.Crowley is scared, Aziraphale is patient, they have a picnic.





	It's A Brand New World

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written in this format before, but I've read a few things and I really like it. It has a silence to it that this story calls for and it's a bit bittersweet, I think.  
Anyways, I hope you like it!

After thousands of years of ingrained routines, it was strange to create new ones. Thousands of years of meeting secretively, or at least trying to, made being together in the open a nerve-wracking experience.

They started slowly. Just walking closer together when they went to feed the ducks. They started sitting closer to each other on the park bench, and on the same side of the table at the Ritz.  
Aziraphale was the one who overcame his frantically beating heart and anxiety, and grabbed Crowley's hand.

They both held their breath, waiting for a flash of lightning or the ground opening up to swallow them both. 

When nothing happened, Crowley tightened the grip, and they both breathed out.

\--

They started slowly, exploring the limits of what they were ready for. When Aziraphale put his hand on Crowley's thigh, and Crowley froze up completely and started shaking just slightly, he quickly removed his hand and apologized.  
Crowley tried to brush him off and say he did nothing wrong, but they both knew that after so long of doing nothing, every new step had to be slow and careful. And this one was too fast and reckless.

After that, Aziraphale kept his touches light and mostly around Crowley's shoulders or arms. They still held hands, and leaned in to each other, but Crowley wasn't ready for much more.

Aziraphale understood. Crowley had always had more to lose should they have been discovered, he was anxious and scared, and now that he could have this without repercussions, he was frightened.

\--

Crowley was the one to gently, softly, and quickly wipe a crumb from Aziraphale's lips. He pulled his hand back as if it burned, and spent the rest of the meal tense and on the verge of bolting, looking around the room intermittently to make sure no one was about to jump them.

He didn't calm down until they sat in the Bentley, it was dark outside and the streetlight cast a dim glow, they were quiet, Aziraphale holding his breath and waiting for Crowley to make the move he wanted to.

Their first kiss was just a brush of lips, there and gone again in a flash, and Crowley spent the drive back to the bookshop blushing furiously.

\--

He was slightly less paranoid after that, but still threw a glance over his shoulder every time they showed the slightest bit of intimacy in a public setting.

It was Aziraphale's turn to be patient. And he was. He knew the fear and the uncertainty had nothing to do with him, so he waited.

He waited for Crowley to make the moves, he waited for Crowley to decide and set the pace. 

\--

Crowley broke down crying four months after the world didn't end. Big gasping sobs, tears rolling down his cheeks and throat, and breathless, jumbled words that weren't meant to make sense.  
Aziraphale held him close, stroking his back and his hair. Crowley clung tight, his manifested claws ripping holes in Aziraphale's vest, and Aziraphale didn't care. His demon was hurting immeasurably, thousands of years of repressed feelings finally rearing their ugly head.

Aziraphale did his best to be strong, but after an hour had passed and Crowley showed no sign of stopping, Aziraphale let his own tears fall, silently, carefully. 

They spent the night like that, Crowley sat in Aziraphale's lap, just clinging to him and exhausting himself with a stream of never-ending tears.

\--

Crowley calmed down remarkably after that, he was more open in his affections. He ordered Aziraphale's favorites at the restaurants they visited, they walked slightly farther apart so their clasped hands were visible. And he didn't recoil as quickly when he touched his angel. The touch didn't burn from his fear anymore. He was still scared, but something had clicked together during that night in the bookshop.

Aziraphale was there, for him, he wasn't going to disappear. He had spent a night holding him tightly and trying to soothe his pain the best he could.

Crowley honestly couldn't remember much, he just knew he had finally caved from the crushing weight of his anxieties and fears.

He was more open with what he told Aziraphale. He was more honest, not that he had lied before, but now he didn't evade the questions or the inquiries. He answered, he explained himself, and he smiled.

\--

Five months after the world didn't end, Crowley grabbed Aziraphale's hand and put it on his thigh. Aziraphale didn't explore, didn't let his hand travel or squeeze, he just rested it there, and Crowley relaxed.  
It was a promise.  
A request to wait just a little longer, but a promise that this was in their future, that touching each other was fine. 

They spent the night drinking good wine, talking about everything and nothing, and Aziraphale's hand never strayed from Crowley's thigh.

\--

Their second kiss was outside of the bookshop when Crowley was dropping him off. A carefully selected time, so that Crowley could make his escape afterwards and calm down.   
He held his angel tightly, caressing his cheeks and brushing his hair, and Aziraphale responded gently.

The kiss deepened and he got his first taste of Crowley, and Crowley his first taste of Aziraphale. And as intoxicating as it was, they separated slowly and said their goodbyes. Crowley went home, and Aziraphale spent the evening touching his lips with a giddy smile.

\--

Six months after the world didn't end, Crowley drove them to a cottage in the countryside, he stammered when he told Aziraphale that he had bought it, and that it was there when they were ready.

They spent the day exploring the cottage, the beach, and the areas beyond. They didn't talk much, both comfortable in the other's presence, and the knowledge that this was in their future. 

Crowley wasn't ready yet, this was another promise, it told Aziraphale to wait just a bit longer, but that it was all there, and that they could both have this.

\--

Their third kiss was passionate and hungry, they were hidden among the bookcases and towering stacks. There was no one to see, no one to interrupt. Their bodies were pressed together and the interest clear. But it wasn't time yet, Crowley pushed him away gently, not a no, but a request for more time.

Aziraphale would wait. He would wait until Crowley told him he was ready, and he didn't care how long that took, he'd wait for the rest of time if necessary.

\--

Seven months after the world didn't end, Crowley gave Aziraphale a gift. A potted Geranium Rozanne. It was pristine and happy, showing no fear or even a single spike of anxiety. And Aziraphale knew that this flower had been painstakingly cared for, nurtured with love and gentle words with the sole intention of being gifted to him.

The gorgeous blue and purple petals were a welcome break of color from the brown, beige, and cream color of the bookshop, and the flower resided happily in the sunniest window.

It was an "I love you" It was another promise, it was a "wait for me". And Aziraphale would wait.

\--

Eight months after the world didn't end, they packed up their belongings and moved to the cottage. It was bittersweet closing up the bookshop, but Aziraphale knew that this was the right thing to do. He had spent so much time there, so many enjoyable evenings and days, but it was time for something new. It was time to start living in the future. 

So he left his past behind. He brought all the books, of course, but he dug out his roots, brushed the dust and dirt off, and moved in with Crowley.

The geranium was placed on the porch, and the flowers paled the wood around them, catching the eye.

\--

They were careful in finding a new rhythm with each other. Aziraphale didn't disturb Crowley's sleep, and Crowley didn't disturb Aziraphale's reading time.   
Crowley cut back on his sleep, and Aziraphale read less during the day. They both wanted to spend every waking hour together, whether that was by taking walks, hand in hand, or sitting quietly next to each other.

They learned to cook together, and Crowley grew most of their ingredients in the garden.   
They learned to dance, just so they could gently lean in to each other and move slowly across the floor to a calm tune.   
Aziraphale learned to knit, and Crowley started building bird houses, of all things. 

The pride they showed after each completed project was strong enough to erase everything else in their world for just a moment.

\--

Nine months after the world didn't end, Crowley prepared a picnic and drove them out to a grassy hill. He touched Aziraphale's cheek, and nodded. 

They ate calmly and talked in hushed tones, none of them wanted to break the moment.

But there was no need to rush, they had waited this long, and they could wait another hour.

\--

The first time they went to bed together, they moved slowly, gently and reverentially removing each other's clothes, kissing and whispering worshiping words against each other's skin.  
It was slow and careful, an exploration of what they could do, how far they could go, what was okay and what wasn't.

Crowley's fears melted away from him piece by piece as Aziraphale touched him with such tender and loving hands he ached with it. His emotions were going haywire, and he was crying as he came in Aziraphale's hand. 

He didn't get to reciprocate, because Aziraphale was kissing his tears away and caressing his shoulders and arms, calming him and assuring him that all was fine. They had time, they didn't have to be scared anymore, they could have this, they could love each other openly, and there was no need to hide.

\--

Ten months after the world didn't end, Crowley packed another picnic, and drove to another hill. They sat talking and sometimes kissing, they stayed until night had fallen and the stars were shining. 

There was no light pollution, and the moon was brighter than they had seen in a long time. 

Ten months after the world didn't end, and Crowley told his angel he loved him for the first time in the stillness of night, under the stars he had helped create.

Ten months, and Aziraphale told Crowley he loved him, and would always love him.

They didn't say much more, there was no need, they both knew.

\--

Crowley felt safe for the first time in his life as he sat on his knees in the garden, tending to his flowers and vegetables in a more tender and loving way than he ever had before. He was so full of love, so full he didn't know what to do with it. So he showered his plants with it, and he put it in every meal he prepared, and in every cup of tea, and in every glance toward his angel.

He put it in every touch and every kiss, he put it in the little things, the daily things, the quiet hours of early morning and late night. 

Aziraphale felt safe, and he was so full of love he didn't know what to do with it. So he put it in every knit sock and every sweater, he put it in every meal he prepared, every cup of tea, every gentle stroke through his demon's hair and every kiss goodnight. He put it in the little things, the daily things. And he said it daily, he said it every time Crowley did something for him, and every time he simply felt too full of love.

\--

Eleven months after the world didn't end, they went to bed together for the second time.

It was still careful and slow, reverent and exploring. But there was more to it, there was a freedom and carelessness that made every kiss all that much sweeter. They moved together with purpose, and Crowley nodded again, yes, it said, I'm ready.

It was Aziraphale's turn to cry, his love growing and moving inside of him like a living thing, and he put it in every touch, every movement, every kiss.

They came together, their essence mingling and interlocking. A bond no God nor Devil could ever break.

\--

Twelve months after the world didn't end, they sat quietly on the porch, a glass of champagne each, and they looked at each other with radiant smiles.

They held up their glasses, and toasted, a promise of many more years, of an eternity together, five words spoken, five words to envelop them and lull them in their safe arms, nothing else was required:

"To us, to our love."


End file.
